I am now at the age of good wine. The one that reveals its best notes, becomes deeper, richer, special. It seems that right now should be a time of enjoyment - warm evenings, easy laughter, morning coffee in bed, strong male hugs. But I wake up alone. There is no beloved man nearby, no confidence in tomorrow. Instead of joy - anxiety. Instead of the sweet taste of life - bitterness. Instead of talking about dreams - news of the war. I would so like to live differently. To wake up not from sirens, but from kisses. To feel desired, and not broken by daily horrors. To know that I have a strong support, and not to cope with everything myself. But the reality is different.
And all that remains is to believe that one day this age will truly become a time of enjoyment. That one day I will not just exist in chaos, but really live. With my beloved. In peace. With a smile, not with fear.

I believe in it. I'm waiting.